A Hatchling's Song
by Karthenia
Summary: Gilbird loved her strange pale Mama, from the day she hatched to the day she died.  Warning for pet death.


This story was written for the kink meme over on lj. A link to the original request and fill can be found on my profile.

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The first thing I see when I hatch is Mama.

I'm tiny and Mama is very, very big. She doesn't have feathers and is all pale and smooth, and her wings are long and thin. She picks me up in her wing-ends and coos to me, rubbing me against her cheek. She's a warm Mama and a loud Mama, and because she's my Mama, I love her.

I try to speak to Mama, but I can't understand the noises she makes. But that's okay. Mama loves me, and because she loves me, she'll understand what I need.

Mama moves, carrying me off. I peek over Mama's wing-end and see another Mama with chicks, but that Mama is not my Mama, so I forget her.

Mama takes me to a strange cave-place where other things like Mama are and starts to make noises at them. One of the beings is even bigger than Mama with proper yellow on its crest, but the same long thin wings- it sets a strange nest on a flat place and Mama puts me in it. There's a smaller nest that looks empty at first, but Mama tips my head down and my beak goes cold and wet.

Up and down, up and down, until I realize that Mama is showing me water. Something goes click in my head, and I know this is water and water is for drinking, so I drink some. Mama leaves my head alone, so I fluff my feathers and look up at her and cheep.

Mama makes a loud funny noise that I guess means she's happy, because she picks me up and cuddles me more, then puts me down again and nudges my beak into a pile of good-smelling things. She uses her wing-ends to show me this is food and I have to eat it.

And that is my first day with Mama. I have many days with Mama, and I learn the sounds for the other beings like her. The big-big-big one with the yellow crest is call little-brother, and the noisy one that flaps its thin wings a lot and sometimes has a big white plume is called feliciano. Sometimes a quiet one comes to the nest place and Mama calls it stupid-stuck-up-austria.

I get bigger and bigger, and Mama takes me out of the nest and puts me on her crest. It's warm and fuzzy and nice up there, and I like it. I ride on top of Mama every day, more and more, all around the nest area.

One day when it's sleep-time, Mama takes me into a new nest place with a big soft nest, and we share it. It's the best sleep-time ever, fluffed up against Mama, safe and warm.

After that, I spend all my sleep-times with Mama. The little nest on the flat place is gone, and Mama lets me go outside the nest place. She shows me trees and grass and I catch her a worm, but she lets me have it. A Mama as big as my Mama must need a very, very big worm.

I start to spend all day when I'm not finding food or drinking or making chalk on Mama's crest, and we go to all sorts of nesting places. I meet many, many more beings like Mama, so many I can't remember most of them. Mama is a very smart Mama because she knows them all and sometimes has more than one name for one being, like the hungary that's also she-male and amazon-queen and dumb-woman-stop-hitting-me. The hungary being is soft but not very nice to Mama.

I also meet birds like me sometimes. Just outside our nesting place there are a lot of birds, and big things called dogs that like ot play tag but can't fly. The other birds sometimes leave, and sometimes new ones come, but I always stay with Mama.

One day when it's cold and all the other birds are gone, Mama takes me off her crest and wraps me up in something warm and takes me outside. Outside is full of cold and white and I don't like it much, but Mama wants me to be here, so I stay in her wing-ends. She carries me across the yard place to the tree.

There is no white under the tree. There are tiny-tiny trees not much bigger than me planted in the ground, and Mama makes herself smaller in front of them.

"Gilbird, meet the other Gilbirds." Mama says. I know that Gilbird is me, but I don't know what the rest of it means, so I look at the tiny trees and cheep. "They're all here. Every one of them. I guess someday you'll be here, too."

Mama's words don't make sense, but something in me clicks and I know that something's wrong. Mama's feeling like how I felt when the other birds all left and I stayed behind. Like it's not right to sing because singing is happy. This feeling is the opposite of happy, and I wiggle free of Mama's wing-ends and hop through the cold to her wing-top, up against her throat, and cheep.

Little-brother comes out after a while and makes Mama go back inside. Mama takes me to our nest and we stay there for many sleep-times.

The cold goes away, and I go back to the tiny trees. I peck at them and try to find why they make Mama sad, but give up when the other birds come back. There is one handsome bird, all yellow and strong, and he sings to me about making a nest. I think of Mama a bit, but Mama is not a mate, and a mate is what I want.

So I mate with the handsome bird, and we make a nest. Mama helps with the beak-shape that means happy, but her voice sounds sad.

I sit on my eggs and think while my handsome mate brings me food. Mama brings me food, too, and perches in the tree nearby and talks to me. Her voice still sounds sad.

The eggs are near to hatching when I remember. I remember the other Mama who looked like me and how that Mama had many eggs, but my Mama had only one egg. Something tells me what to do, like when Mama taught me what water was.

The day comes. My mate is busy looking for food and Mama is there to flap her wings and make anxious noises, and I know what to do. I tap my beak against an egg, nudge it with my wing, push it away from the other eggs. Mama stares, then carefully picks the egg up. I go back to my eggs. I know Mama will care for her egg just like she cared for me.

Mama is not alone when it's cold again and my mate and I fly to a warmer place. We come back when the cold is gone and make another nest, and though Mama is not alone, I want to be sure. I give her another egg. I give my Mama one egg from every nest I make, so Mama isn't alone and Mama knows I love her.

The cold comes and goes, and it's hard to fly to the warmth and back. Mama has many chicks from the eggs I gave her, but she's never too busy for me. She knows, as I know, that I have a long, long sleep-time ahead of me soon.

My mate is taken by one of the things called cats, and I don't want another mate. I have my nest to myself at last.

The cold starts to come again, but I know I won't make the trip. I want Mama to be there when my long sleep-time comes. Mama has been a good Mama, to me and to my chicks, and I want my last day to be like my first.

The white hasn't fallen yet when my day comes. Mama directs the chicks I gave her to feed me so I don't go to sleep hungry. She helps me dip my beak for water, just like when I first hatched. I cheep to Mama how much I love her, and she knows what I mean, because she makes the happy beak-shape that doesn't go with the water on her cheeks and makes the i-love-you-gilbird noise.

Mama picks me up in her wing-ends. The three chicks with her cheep in worry around us as Mama carries me outside, to the big tree with the tiny trees under it. We stay in the yard place as the white starts to fall, and Mama makes her very-very-sad noise and rubs me against her cheek.

I know the white means it's cold, but I don't feel cold. I feel warm and loved and tired. It's time for my long sleep, and Mama is sad now, but she has my chicks to care for her. They will know how to keep Mama from being alone.

I sleep.

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The anon on the kink meme asked for dogs, but they got two dog fills, so I went with Gilbird, because my headcanon is that Gilbird is a long line of Gilbirds, and not just one curiously immortal bird.


End file.
